A poem about love and hope by David Tombale: Resurrecting

Resurrecting is about finding someone to save you.

Resurrecting

I have lost all reason and traded the inky

black of my rain swept skies for the sunny

gold of autumn, hibernating quietly while

she sits silently resting her hands on either

side of him.

The coldness of winter has often lived here,

winked its eye here and felt that the

sinking weight of my falling heart would

look far better frozen but sometimes I

disagree, many times a woman will sidle

up and rub her hands across that ice and

resurrect my beating heart,

fill these eyes with gifts of long black locks

and soft brown arms and someday she’ll kiss

these lips and impart the wisdom of being lost

only to be found.

A poem about life and hope by David Tombale: Live

Live is about celebrating life through the simplest acts.

Image credit- eelx

Live

Live out your dreams in stolen moments

beneath the evergreens and let free the

music that soars in you, that screams,

the drumbeat of dancing feet, baby girl

I’m watching you and all night you dance,

dance for Marvin, baby dance for me,

make these hours count, make this little

house bounce, make the cobwebs tear,

make that radio our stair, we wind and

dance our way into a better life or stay

dreaming while our skin throbs,

while your hair falls in drops of sweat,

live out your dreams and make my

mama stare, make her love the way

you tear up this room.

 

 

 

 

 

A poem about love everlasting by David Tombale: Forever loving you

Forever loving you represents a lingering feeling clinging to my bones that I feel makes me better. Instead of anger and bitterness left in the wake of love I chose to write about an affection that will outlast an ending of things.
Forever loving you

The rainbows forgot to rest here
and the butterflies turn cartwheels in the air

Her slippered feet still dance happily in the
grips of a beautiful memory but
somewhere her love refused her,
it failed to care about  the withered
flowers sown into her yellow hair-

and I know I should have stayed here to
catch your falling tears but
the tides have spoken
and we two distant ships still sailing on to
seas of grief while I still missing you,
I who knows you best
and will remain here to help you
find your rest.

A poem about the struggle by David Tombale: Listen to how it carries on

This piece was something born out of the coverage of the electoral campaigns run by the ANC after Nelson Mandela's death. How they approached them disturbed me so I felt I had to write something about it.
Listen to how it carries on

Mandela’s freedom song lifts
Towards the sky but never dwells,
Never stays to lift the starving
Ones from shacks that lean towards
The ground. Pieces falling off the
Cool tin roofs as a little baby cries,
Little ribs pushing against his tiny
Chest while the lights flicker and
Slowly die

Too many bills piled up,
Too many promises but the water’s
Filthy, the backyard garbage filled,
Bloodshot eyes still beg for tears
But nothing fills

You got to love that freedom song
Listen to how it carries on,
It lifts its head towards the sky
While my dirty shirt has ripped,
My back is bowed under years
And a falling ceiling, the rocks putting
Weight on my old neck

I have to love that freedom song but
The song won’t feed me, the song can’t
See this hole that’s me, torn black
Fingers and no more red or green for
Me.

A poem about love and longing by David Tombale: Our home

This poem pretty much tells its own story. It's really just a tribute to a warm glow that fills us all at the beginning of what could be an amazing love.
Our home

Forgive me if I say words
that I don't mean,
like I don't need you at all,
it's okay if you leave me,
hey it was fun while it lasted,
have fun in Nebraska
I'm sure that I'll be fine
when you're gone,

Forgive me if I can't see me
happy without you,
you're like sunshine in the wake of a storm,
my cold breeze in the desert,
the one that I turn to when everything
feels like it's gone,

Forgive me if I fall to my knees
when I see you,
I want to be here forever holding
on to the one that I love,
trace my fingers down the lines of your face,
it's like a season of blue skies,
a song that I cannot forget,

Forgive me if I breathe deeply
cos I want to remember the
smell of your hair,
I've lived here for so long,
been alone for awhile,
now I take up all this clutter
making room for your clothes,
stay here beside me in this home
that I've made here for us,
lady believe me today
I want to make you my wife.

A poem about the nature of an artist's soul by David Tombale: Every season

This piece was written for contest that addressed how every work we produce is often a reflection of ourselves. That idea just gave birth to this poem that in a way describes the person I've always been and the hope I've always kept a secret.
Every season

I change with every season so
Every season is my own, a
Room of mirrors, a soul that
Shivers, shivers to the bone,
I paint a crazy picture of the
Landscape of my mind and as
I lean a little I see the people
Hidden in the back,

I change with every season so
Every season is my own, the
Hobbled man, the vagrant, dirty
Nails scratching at his skin, I
Feel sick so I sat beside the
Bar stool with a whiskey in
My hand and listened to the
Music of an old out of tune
Piano,

I change with every season so
Every season is my own, that
Is why I build my houses on
Shifting sand and keep my clothes
In a bag beside my bed, I want
To leave here but I don't know
Where to go, which is why she
Holds me all silent as I cry.